


Elate Na Thn Paretai

by malumgranatum



Series: Chronicles of the Middle Sea [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Constantinople, Gen, Historical, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malumgranatum/pseuds/malumgranatum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anno Domini 1453, Greece's life is about to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elate Na Thn Paretai

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: starshards  
> Crossposted in Livejournal (as morwen2), FanFiction.net (as redtulip) & EFP (as malumgranatum). Modified in few parts.  
> Historical notes at the end of the story

_"Oh my lords, my brothers, my sons, the everlasting honour of Christians is in your hands."_

Constantine XI Palaiologos

 

Constantinople, anno Domini 1453.

That year Easter was celebrated quietly, nothing compared to the past, when joyous citizens commemorated Christ's victory against death. Now there was nothing to celebrate, the already moribund Eastern Empire standing on the verge of collapse. Turks invaded most of the territories that once were part of the empire, and now only Constantinople and a bunch of cities were resisting their offence. Despite the previous emperor's efforts to persuade the other Christian powers to help him, because Turks were their common enemies, the poor man returned to Constantinople without having obtained much, after being pitied and comforted by the foreign courts. That man, Caesar's heir, was nothing more than the Greeks' king to them. He was only a shadow of the previous great emperors who conquered almost the entire known world; but now the other countries were much more powerful than him, and they had their own problems to solve. Helping that decadent empire simply wasn't their priority. They turned their backs to their fellow city.

Old prophecies and bad omens announced the capital's fall.

Nobody, not even the Holy Virgin, could have been able to save that doomed city, yet the inhabitants and the few foreigners that came to help them, didn't want to give up, and started to strengthen the walls, preparing themselves for the imminent attack.

On Easter Monday the first group of enemies was spotted. Many days later the entire army, led by the sultan, arrived in front of the city's wall. The battle began. The citizens endured the terrible attacks, the countless cannonades, not only men, but also women and clerics participated actively in the city's defense, guarding and repairing the walls, led by their brave emperor, confident God would protect them.

Unluckily, three months after the siege's start, the Turks succeeded in entering the city, and a thousand years after Rome, Constantinople succumbed. The old imperial capital was now a Turkish domain, the old moon was now replaced by a new one, a new era was starting.

Turkey was now walking through the city's streets. All around him was chaos, and screams. His people weren't gentle towards the citizens, but after that long wait they needed to vent their frustration and the perspective of the booty inflamed their souls. Many innocents were robbed, and then killed; women raped, children were took prisoner; houses and churches spoiled, and destroyed, relics lost forever.

He would later stop them, at the moment he was more interested in reaching the Hagia Sophia, the city's soul. He wandered through the streets. Truly Constantinople was already decadent, many buildings were abandoned and in some points vegetation overrode. The same city that in the past surpassed Rome in splendor, disestablishing it from the title of imperial capital, was now nothing more than a shadow of its previous glory, exhausted, spent.

Nevertheless, when Turkey reached his destination, God's Wisdom displayed itself in its magnificence, towering the area, intimidating in its grandeur, even after the previous destruction. Devoted hands healed the scars left by the same Christians who fought in the Holy Land for Christ's glory and victory against infidels and yet, full of cupidity, attacked and conquered that city, despoiling it of riches and precious relics.

When he entered the sacred place, the Turk was surrounded by silence and the aroma of incense; serenity and peace contrasting with the confusion coming from outside. From little windows, light mirrored mosaics' tesseras illuminated the aisle, creating a golden surreal atmosphere. From above, Christ was blessing his troubled people, his calm gaze promising them a peaceful afterlife, a reward for the present troubles.

Gold, precious marbles, and porphyries made the church look like a rich casket, Constantinople' last big treasure.

Lowering his gaze, Turkey noticed a tiny figure squatted by the altar, and, upon looking with more attention, he realized that it was a child. Being spotted, the boy stood up; dressed in imperial clothes and adorned with jewels, there stood Greece.

 

* * *

_Many years before_

"I expect you to loyally serve us"

Turkey lowered his head, hoping that would be enough as a consent. He wouldn't swear loyalty to anyone, nobody was going control him, he would be free. But if fighting for that woman could make him stronger, then he...

"I'll protect the border."

"You better do it. I expect much from you and your people. I won't allow any mistakes." Damn, that woman sure was bossy. The first time he saw her, he thought she was truly beautiful, graceful and regal, yet her eyes were so cold. Surviving through many difficulties, she lost her spontaneity; her stare was distant like the beautiful statues she was so proud of.

The statue shifted back to human when a maid handed her a baby, and, just for an instant she smiled kindly at the child.

"This is my heir, the one who shares a name with the great god Heracles." The clerics in the hall quickly crossed, looking with disbelief their lady, who, uncaring of her profane speech, just continued, "My heir, my son will surpass any other who came before him, even his own parents. He'll become the greatest among the great."

A baby, a brat. Turkey doubted that little bug could become strong, let alone surpass his father. The man the Turk for so long admired, the one who came from West, conquering, submitting so many lands. He felt something like admiration toward the world's conqueror, so since he was a kid, Turkey dreamed to build his own empire, a great and lasting one. When that man fell, the Turk felt empty; so this was the end of a conqueror, weakened and betrayed. Well, if that was that old man's destiny, that didn't mean it was going to be his destiny. The Turkish Empire was meant to last forever.

The baby was now looking at him with curiosity, Turkey stared back and the baby, scared, started crying loudly.

Brats.

* * *

 

Well, the brat sure...remained a brat, maybe bigger, still pitiful in his weakness.

Meanwhile, Heracles was glancing nervously at that tall, bearded man who brought him back memories of his father. That father he remembered with difficulty, always far away, busy protecting himself from that damned barbarian's attacks. While his mother, as long as she was alive, never left him. She had been a strong, brave and independent woman in the past. Many desired her and tried to conquer that resolute woman, only Heracles' father truly succeeded. But even though he married her, he continued flirting with other women, who gave him other children. Nevertheless, when difficult times arrived, his father didn't hesitate to divide with her his power, entrusting to her a part of his empire. Even after his father's departure, his mother continued to rule over those territories, but she was starting to weaken. When Crusaders violated her, she was left deprived, fragile, almost powerless. Turkey's attack had been the final blow; day after day he saw his mother slowly pass away, too exhausted to react. Mourning her fate, she entrusted her son and vassals to Constantine' sword and God's mercy.

Heracles was in the church when the enemy army penetrated into the city. The previous night the entire city went to pray, and during that night Orthodoxies and Catholics prayed together, forgetting for once their vain disputes, granting one of the emperor's wishes just for that night. Heracles saw his emperor motivate his people. They, descendents of Roman and Greek warriors, had to defend their city from infidels. Everyone's stare was now directed toward Heracles, they would show their prince their determination, there was still going to be a future for them.

After the mass, Constantine once again told him that he would protect his prince, like he promised to the kid's mother. Before leaving, he asked the boy to remain in the church, the safer place in the city. That was the last time Heracles saw his emperor. He felt as his mother was dying for a second time and just like before, he couldn't do anything, he was only a powerless child.

Now that infidel barbarian dared to invade not only his mother's capital, but also that sacred place.

The man smirked "I thought _His Highness_ was waiting for me in his luxurious palace."

While he was speaking, he advanced towards the kid, standing right in front of him.

After having examined the boy carefully, he smiled sarcastically "Y'know, purpura and gold are for kings, not for brats. Now, that I think about it, they're not for kings either, at least, not for yours."

A kick. Sadiq didn't feel the pain, Hell if a kid's kick could affect him, his body barely registered the pressure. However he could not help shocked stare, fixed upon the brat who had dared to try to harm him and now was looking at him with defiant eyes.

Anger spread through Turkey's expression. He grabbed Greece by the hair, earning a loud yelp, breaking the religious silence. He was now face to face to the child: "Listen carefully brat, I don't give a shit who are you, or who your folks were. You're just an annoying little bug to me. So be careful, or I'll end up crushing you."

In the meantime the kid was trying to struggle, which was pretty difficult, that man was very strong.

"Let me go! Let me go! You filthy barbarian!"

The grip on his hair tightened, Heracles' eyes were teary from the pain, yet he was trying to stare defiantly his opponent.

"Me? Barbarian? Don't you label barbarians as those who break agreements, betray, sack, rape, destroy, and massacre those who aren't civilized?... as I recall, brat, your old man did all of this, and your Ma sure wasn't any better."

Hearing this, Heracles tried to kick out again at his opponent, but the man easily avoided the little foot, not concerned about slenderizing the brat's family, and continued his speech.

"Your folks, they thought they were superior, like gods, and for that they believed they were immortal. Their haughtiness brought them to ruin, and in the end they weren't even capable of protecting themselves, let alone their children. It's their fault a kid like you must manage this situation by himself; even your emperor couldn't defend you. Blame your own family brat, they condemned you, they left you alone."

Heracles stood still, he couldn't reply, all that this man was saying was true. He was alone and didn't know what to do. If only Constantine was there. He promised he would come whenever Greece needed help. Where was he? Did he really abandon him? Was he injured? Dead?

Seeing that the kid had calmed down, the grip on his hair loosened, so Greece managed to set himself free, his head hurting like hell and his eyes burning. He just wanted to act like a normal child. He wanted to cry, ask for his mother; yet he wasn't normal, nor was he truly a child. Since he was born, he was treated like something special. His noble origins made him a prince, covered with treasures; he was different to his distant brothers, whose mothers were unknown. Classicism didn't flow through their veins, and for that they were considered half-blood, bastards.

Courtiers had always surrounded Heracles. They praised him, envied his rank; he was accustomed to this hypocritical worship.

But now, this man was treating him like a normal child, and not a gift sent by the gods; he didn't know what to do, it was the first time someone treated him like a human being, and not a precious thing. He was confused. Maybe returning to his land was the best choice, maybe there was still hope to kick Turkey out of his mother's territories, maybe this time his brothers would help him. He had to return, now.

"Then, because you won, this city doesn't need me anymore, so I'll return to my land."

"There's no way I'll permit an annoying brat like you to return to his land to live amongst his people" growled the Turk. Heracles glared him, while Sadiq continued. "Anyway, if I give you the opportunity to leave, where would you go? Athens now belongs to your Italian kin; can Greece be himself without his most precious city? Athena must be angered with you Greeks. Her beloved citizens banished her, and moreover her house was transformed in a Christian temple. You betrayed them, an' now all your Gods are cursing you and your people. Don't you fear their anger? Or is your new faith is strong enough to protect you from them? Surely it didn't protect you from me, nor did it protect your mother from your kin."

That was too much. How did he dare say this? That man didn't know anything, he couldn't understand what...

"You'll stay with me." Sadiq said.

"What?"

"Are you deaf, brat? I said you'll stay with me. Think about it, you have nowhere to go. You'll live with me and you'll be trained to serve me."

"NEVER!" Heracles expression turned harsh.

"You'll become a well-mannered brat, accommodating and faithful. You'll have to work hard to gain my good will. If you succeed, you'll be enough lucky to grow up. But if you'll disappoint me, you'll be punished until you'll end up begging me to kill you. Just remember, brat, disobey me, make a mistake and your people will suffer along with you."

That damned Turk was threatening him, Heracles was sure everything that he was saying was the truth, and he really didn't want to increase his people's suffering. He had no choice.

"I'll stay with you"

The Turk chuckled. "It seems that you're a wise brat after all."

Heracles lowered his head, eyes full of tears, but determined not to let them fall.

"Well, now, I got the feeling that I'll stay here for a long time. Would you mind showing me the beauties of this city? Being the prince you must know it very well."

Sadiq turned and started to move towards the great portal, leaving Heracles staring at his back. Not hearing the other's footsteps, the Turk paused.

"I'm waiting, brat" his said menacingly.

Heracles clenched his fists, but obeyed.

He would show the Turk that he wasn't a pathetic brat; he was brave and determined. This battle was lost, but he would resist. That man pretended that he should live with him? Then Heracles would take advantage of it, trying to discover his enemy's weaknesses, so that, someday, he could defeat and beat him out of his mother's lands. He must do this, for his parent's memory and his people's dignity.

He reached the Turk. Sadiq smirked.

"Good puppy"

Right after they left, Turkish soldiers occupied the church.

Leaving the Hagia Sophia, Heracles didn't know that would be the last time he would see the church.

A lot of time passed since that fateful day, yet a few people still waited for the moment when the last emperor would finally wake up from his centenary sleep, and, along with his beloved prince, would rescue his lost capital.

_"As it is clear that you desire war more than peace, since I cannot satisfy you either by my protestations of sincerity, or by my readiness to swear allegiance, so let it be according to your desire. I turn now and look to God alone. Should it be his will that the city be yours, where is he who can oppose it? If he should inspire you with a desire for peace, I shall be only too happy. However, I release you from all your oaths and treaties with me, and, closing the gates of my capital, I will defend my people to the last drop of my blood. Reign in happiness until the All-just, the Supreme God, calls us both before his judgment seat."_

Constantine XI

* * *

 

**Historical notes**

While the Europeans used to call the Byzantine emperor, "Greek king", the Byzantines used to call him Emperor of Romans, because this title meant prestige and glory for their state. During the Ottoman slavery, Greeks continued to call themselves "Romeos" and it was after the Greek Revolution of 1821, that the name "Hellen" started to replace the old one.

Because the Greeks had militarily abandoned the Crusaders on some occasions and engaged in open diplomacy with their enemies on others, the Latins of the First, Second, and Third Crusade had gone from strained to hostile in Constantinople on their way to the Holy Land. A large number of Venetian merchants and other Latins were also attacked and deported during the massacre of the Latins in Constantinople in 1182.

So on April 12, 1204 the crusaders inflicted a horrible and savage sacking on Constantinople for three days, during which many ancient and medieval Roman and Greek works were either stolen or destroyed. Despite their oaths and the threat of excommunication, the Crusaders ruthlessly and systematically violated the city's holy sanctuaries, destroying, defiling, or stealing all they could lay hands on; nothing was spared.

The empire was apportioned between Venice and the crusade's leaders, and the Latin Empire of Constantinople was established. The Venetians also founded the Duchy of the Archipelago in the Aegean Sea. Meanwhile, Byzantine refugees founded their own successor states, the most notable of these being the Empire of Nicaea, the Empire of Trebizond, and the Despotate of Epirus.

The city was re-captured by the Nicaean Greeks in 1261.

During a procession the Hodigitria, an icon that represented the Holy Mary, depicted according to the legend by Saint Luke, fell down and nobody was able to lift it. Moreover a mysterious fog clouded the entire city even though it was May.

It was emperor Manuel II Palaiologos, Constantine' father, who traveled from court to court to ask Western sovereigns' help against Turk Ottomans. Manuel's successor, emperor John VIII, tried to obtain the West's help with the promise to unify Catholic and Orthodox Churches, but Greek Christians were against this decision, thinking that even Turks' dominion was better than submission to the Pope.

Constantine XI Palaiologos, emperor John's brother, was the last reigning Roman Emperor and a national hero in Greece. He died defending his city. Some Turkish soldiers claimed they found his corpse, he was beheaded and his head was shown as an admonishment. Others claim that the Turks were never been able to identify his body, and that the last Roman Emperor was very likely buried in a mass grave alongside his soldiers.

According to a legend, an angel rescued the emperor, turned him into marble and placed him in a cave under the earth near the Golden Gate, where he waits to be brought to life again.

**Concerning the title**

When the sultan asked emperor Constantine to surrender the city, the brave monarch answered:

" _Elate na thn paretai_ " - "Come and take her"


End file.
